


Accidents

by ShadowHaloedAngel



Series: Tenshi [2]
Category: Jrock
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowHaloedAngel/pseuds/ShadowHaloedAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How their relationship began</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accidents

It was hard to imagine what had possibly come before this, to think of a life apart from each other, but the fact was that it hadn't always been that simple. It had taken a long time, and a lot of work for them to have anything resembling this, despite how well they fitted together. 

It had been a party for the big names in the music business in one of the record executive's mansions, and what had surprised Akito the most was the private bar. He had never seen a personal bar in a private home before, and it was a surprise, albeit a practical one, serving as a meeting point and a way of avoiding awkward conversation. 

He was lost in the crowd, surrounded by famous faces and others he didn't recognise. It was a new business, and he had been handed a ticket as a replacement for somebody who couldn't attend. In an attempt to relax, to become more accustomed to this strange environment, he had ordered a glass of red wine from within the scrum which surrounded the bar, and was about to pick it up when an arm extended for its own drink, knocking Akito's hand, and spilling the crimson liquid over the crisp white of its sleeve.

"Sumimasen..." it was instinctive, although he knew that he was not at fault.

"Kochirakoso sumimasen..." the voice was low, instantly recognisable, although it was different from the interviews he had seen on television and the internet over the years. "Please... allow me to get you a replacement..."

Akito could do nothing but stare as the man effortlessly caught the bartender's attention and he had another glass appear before him and the blond melted back into the crowd. 

It had been easy to believe that it would never happen again - after all, that meeting could hardly have been anything but a fluke. It was another few weeks before they met again, and this time it was at a meeting called to discuss the record label's new signings. He was there as a producer, and Akito was attending to start getting to grips with the administrative and financial side he had been employed to deal with. He supposed he should have expected it, but it still came as a shock to see that man there. Surely he wouldn't be remembered. It had been a passing meeting only. 

A smile, that same dazzling smile he had seen so many times before. 

"How nice to see you again... I don't believe we've been properly introduced... hajimemashite, Hayashi Yoshiki desu... yoroshiku..."

"K-Kochirakoso yoroshiku... Nishimura Akito desu yo Hayashi-san, hajimemashite..."

"Ah Nishimura-san... Yoshiki to yonde kudasai..."

"H-hai... Yoshiki-san mo Akito to yonde kudasai..."

"Nn..." another noise of assent, and the smile shifted to one which was meant just for Akito, sending a shiver down his spine and making his stomach turn over.  
"Perhaps we should..."

"Yes, of course...."

They returned to the table, a few glances of surprise simply because of the interaction between Yoshiki and this unknown man, in a language none of them spoke. They could not possibly understand the weight of what had just passed between the two Japanese men.

It was months of casual encounters before anything new happened, at another party this time. By now Akito had reached the status where he was allocating the tickets, rather than simply receiving one to fill in for an unwell colleague. Yoshiki was there, as always, but neither of them seemed to be particularly enjoying themselves. As evenings went, it was hardly exciting, and to be honest, Akito felt no particular need to force himself to stay. He debated for a long time whether to take the plunge, but... he meant nothing by it, and he hoped it wouldn't be taken amiss. 

Hesitantly, he approached the man, when the woman Yoshiki was in conversation with wandered off.  
"Konbanwa, Yoshiki-san... o-genki desu ka?"

"Hai, Akito-san, genki desu yo, Akito-san mo?"

"Hai... kono paati wa chotto.... ne?"

A soft noise of assent, and a half laugh at that, as ever too polite to say anything more definite.

"...Bangohan tabemasen deshita... anou...watashi to bangohan wo tabe ni ikimasen ka?"

A hesitation, and a repeat of that smile which seemed to make the world fade away, and Yoshiki nodded. The two fetched their coats, and left together. 

The next Akito knew, they were sitting in a restaurant about ten minutes walk from where the party had been. It was one he knew, and often visited when he had been working long hours at the office, not having the impetus or motivation to cook for one. It was quiet and small, but the food was good and the staff were unobtrusive.

He was caught unawares, then, when the blond man traced a finger around the rim of his glass, and looked up to meet Akito's eyes.

"Tell me about you. You know about me. Everyone knows about me. I want to know about you."

"N-nani?"

The composer paused to take a sip of his wine, and when he looked up again, his eyes were dancing, the amber warm. 

"I want to know your story. I want to know who you are, and what made you that person. I want to know the truth. There is no point, after all, in hiding who you are at the beginning of a relationship, if it is to have any future, don't you agree? And..." a slight laugh "That applies to any kind of relationship..."

"...I was born in the United States..." he began, eventually "But I grew up in Japan, in Shizuoka prefecture. My father was an architect, my mother was a housewife. I rarely saw my father growing up, I suppose that is the way it usually is... " his gaze flicked back to meet that of the other man, knowing already that there would be sadness lurking there when he had mentioned his parents. He felt no need to say anything, only placed his hand over the slender, damaged equivalent which conjured such beauty, and offered silent reassurance, comfort. "I did well at school, and went to university to study law. Halfway through my first year, my mother became very sick. My sister took care of her for the most part, but she was studying for college so it was very difficult. She died just before Christmas that year, having seen me at least reach second year. My sister deferred her college place to take care of my mother, and the house, but she at least saw her get in, too, so that was something."

"Six months before I graduated, my father committed suicide. He had been the architect on a project where the building company had taken shortcuts everywhere, and used inferior quality materials, everything. The building collapsed, and three people died. He was not responsible, the design was sound, but he blamed himself. I received my diploma alone. My sister was studying abroad in France. We don't speak much, she is still hurt by our mother's death, and that I couldn't be there, although she understands."

"I took a job at a law firm, and made reasonable progress. We specialised in family law, which was not easy for me. About five years after I had taken that job, I was fighting for a father to get custody of his children after a divorce case. Their mother was abusing them. We knew everything, but we had no proof and the children would say nothing... they were still living with her during proceedings, of course they wouldn't testify, not knowing what would happen to them there if they did... " he stopped, his voice shaking slightly, and took another deep drink of his wine, fortifying himself against the memories which left him so weak, which dragged him down. "We lost. The children stayed there. Their father was devastated, but he thanked me, told me he knew I had done all I could. He had tears in his eyes. That night... I slashed my wrists to ribbons and tried to hang myself in my apartment. The rope snapped and I sprained my ankle. I called an ambulance, they checked me over, and bandaged me and sent me on my way. The next day, I sent my resignation in to the legal firm and began my accountancy training. That combined with the legal knowledge, and the fact that my sister is involved in the arts helped me get a job in the music industry. The rest... you know, more or less, considering that the first night we met was the end of my first week on the job."

Yoshiki had listened in silence, surprised, in a way, that his request had been honoured. It had been made almost in jest, and not in expectation of such honesty, although he was pleased by it, relieved by it. He wondered what it was that drove Akito to trust him so blindly, to tell him everything when it could have been used by unscrupulous people to shame his family. Personally, Yoshiki could see no shame in it at all, but he was unsurprised when, after he finished, Akito could not look him in the eye.  
He mused, taking his time to think about how to react, what to say next, what to do, staring at the fingers now intertwined on the tablecloth. Slowly, he lifted those hands, and pressed a kiss to the back of Akito's. The man gasped, and instantly looked up, staring, taken completely offguard by the warm amber which gazed back at him. 

"I can't make promises." he began, his voice low, and unsurprisingly musical.

"I don't want to take the risk of breaking them. I find it... easier that way, on a personal level, at least. So for now, I won't make promises. Maybe the day will come when I feel I can. But I don't want to walk away from this. I don't want to walk away from you. I've not felt so... close to someone, in a long time. I want to explore that feeling more, if it is something that... you might be willing to... explore with me."

Akito stared. He didn't know what it was about this man that so often, so comprehensively, reduced him to silence. He couldn't be serious, this... no. This could not be happening. He had to say something, though, he could not leave that simply hanging... and so, slowly, hesitantly, he brought their twined hands to his lips, and kissed Yoshiki's softly.

"I am willing..." he whispered, and, for the first time in a long time, the pianist smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> I always swore I would never write RPF, I got into Jrock, specifically X Japan and Yoshiki, and that changed. This dances along the line between RPF and OF, in my opinion - I don't pretend to know Yoshiki, or what he's really like, I simply write him as I perceive him, through music, and interviews. It's my interpretation, and would probably, with a different name, qualify as an OC, however, I'm choosing to do it like this. Nishimura Akito is mine, and was created because someone was needed to take care of him. Look upon this as you will, but to me, it's original fiction, just borrowing the name, appearance, and story, of one of my greatest inspirations.


End file.
